


Love's Initial Spark

by axelle_alenko



Series: Barakiel's Saga [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angels, First Love, M/M, Swearing, fecking rip me omg, i'll edit it later ig???, idk what to actually tag this one, oh well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 06:51:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12249183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/axelle_alenko/pseuds/axelle_alenko
Summary: He would never understand why he was drawn to him, but it had been inevitable from the start.





	Love's Initial Spark

He remembered how she moved, like water personified, grace and elegance. His gaze had focused solely on her, and nothing else. It felt surreal, the concept of love, after having everything taken from him. New emotions had formed and shaped his personality into something that was likely different than what he had been in the mortal world.

So it threw him for a second loop when the same emotions stirred in his gut at the sight of _him._

The city of Mi'nurän was still young, its population steadily growing. Ambriel had been one of the newly-created angels that Orly had put on a path to accelerated growth, while Adnachiel.. Adnachiel had returned from the surface world, years after the green angel's revival.

Unwillingly, his outlook had become darker, and much more cynical, than his breathren. But who could blame him? He'd gotten caught up in another life that he would have never agreed to, let alone enjoyed. Still...the two tested his own fragile emotions.

Ambriel was the first to let her disinterest known, and she had not been gentle with the way she shot him down. Anger had boiled in him at the realization that she pursued another, but it had quickly dissolved into a hollow sense of being inadequate. Adna, however, was a wild card.

The elder male basked in the younger's inexperience, content to poke and tease at him given every opportunity. It was never clear whether he held genuine interest, until the end of one of their many training days. Adnachiel had been assigned as his mentor, teaching him the ways of the blade, though at some point, it was growing steadily clearer that Barakiel would eventually outmatch him.

The clatter of metal against stone echoed in their training room, a sword aimed at his throat. His mentor had hands lifted in defense, though his stance was betrayed by his warm smile. Barakiel rasped for breath, their tussle not only proving to test his limits, but also burning at his stomach. His eyes had followed things it shouldn't have- like the way his exposed chest gleamed with the accumulated sweat, or the way his muscles tightened and relaxed with his sword arm's movement..

Gods, he was hopeless.

"Well done, Barakiel." Adna bent, retrieving his sword, as the younger reluctantly stepped back, the flesh below his brilliant eyes burning a darker hue with his flustered coloration. Thankfully, it could have easily been mistaken for exertion instead.

"Your responses were delayed, however. You're distracted."

_I wonder why._ He bit back the retort, fingers fidgeting against the handle of his blade. His gaze remained lowered, features twisted in the effort it took to suppress his thoughts, his desires.

A gasp was ripped from his lungs at the sudden contact, cool fingers tilting his chin upward, forcing his attention. The grin that met his surprise was unfitting of an angel, perfect lips set in a smirk. Caught off-guard initially, Barakiel recovered, only to glare haughtily up at the male, earning his efforts a small sigh.

"Gods. You're an idiot." The touch was gone and he wanted it back, mouth falling open in surprise, Adnachiel's great wings brushing against his own in passing. There had been an unmistakable note of something sour in his tone, the notion that he was disappointing his mentor twisting at his stomach.

He shouldn't feel like this. Wasn't this forbidden?!

Pale fingers clenched into a fist, his head lowering, glaring eyes focused upon stone. "What have I done this time?"

No answer initially, the sound of the elder replacing their equipment shaking his core, as the seconds of silence lingered. Then, at last: "You cannot naturally be as oblivious as a brick wall."

Something about his statement struck him like a cattle prod, the younger angel whirling toward him. "What in Aysel's name are you implying-" he sneered- " _teacher_?" It was too toxic, it came out wrong. Why was he so bitter?

A pause, then an incredulous laugh. He heard the force behind the sudden collision of the elder's palm against his forehead, rather than saw it. "Do I have to carry around a sign, Barakiel? Despite the fact that you are a complete ass most of the time.."

His heartbeat roared in his ears, dumbfounded eyes taking in the slow saunter, the way Adnachiel approached him, sword re-sheathed against his hip. The blade's casing dragged against the floor, but the sound didn't matter. What mattered was the way a hand abruptly wove into his hair, then curled into a tight fist. Barakiel hissed, teeth bore into a grimace of pain, though it was quickly overriden, lips mashed to his.

Breathing was secondary. The contact shocked his system, eyes widening in the stead of closing, taking in the proximity. Adna's tattoos seemed to glow up close, and for the first time, he noticed the intricate weaving of markings closest to his eyes.

The air burned back inside when the two pulled apart, a snorting laugh escaping his elder, as he no doubt looked like a simpleton- mouth hanging open, eyes bulging, a deepening blush on his unmarked face. He was still painfully close. He could feel the distortion in the air around them, his senses felt so heightened.

He shuddered, quivering with the touch of a thumb against his lower lip. He ripped himself from his enamored state, harsh blue narrowing to slits, his hand wrapping around Adnachiel's wrist in a vice grip. "This is forbidden." He sounded weak- why was he so weak to him!?

The smile that met his statement made his gut twist. "Who said?"

He had him there. No one had explicitly told him that love between same-gendered persons was expressly forbidden...but it had been _implied_ , he thought!

"I.." Words failed him. He had no answer. Barakiel pushed through and threw the other's arm away, mouth curling into a grimace. "Isn't it forbidden for a mentor and his student-"

"No." He was so quick to answer!

"-fine! What about two-"

"-men? Have you not been educated on the matters here?" Adna stepped back from him, amusement gone from his mannerisms. Strong- distracting- arms crossed over his bare chest. "The angels- and gods, for that matter- have a severely open-door policy on the concept of love. After all, one of our patron goddesses holds reign over the powers involved in romance."

Shit. He had him boxed in, his expression morphed into one overwhelmed. The stubborn man turned away, though, fists at his sides. "How in the world did it factor in that I would appreciate someone making advances?"

"Because, if I had waited on you, it never would have happened." An arm wound around his shoulders, the blue angel content to claim his undivided attention.

His stomach burned, his mind buzzing with the things he wanted to do to this idiotic man.

Not a one of them were appropriate for an angel.

Standing before him, wings flared, so close he could practically taste the man's natural scent- airy and with the wildest hint of the sea- Barakiel gave in, shoving reason on the backburner, to sate an inescapable urge he'd felt for years.

Searing, consuming him, he threw himself headfirst into the metaphorical fire that was Adna's love, uncaring to whether it would reduce his own sanity to ashes.

He was careless, but he was young. How was he to learn if not by experience?


End file.
